Читать книгу General Impressions - Edmée Elizabeth Monica Dashwood - Страница 13

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First, perhaps rather unfortunate, General Impression distinctly reminiscent of the Zoo, with a number of bored-looking animals strongly confined behind a high grill. Second General Impression, also reminiscent of the Zoo, that those behind the grill are completely indifferent to the requirements of those on the other side.

Effect of colossal and business-like ink-wells, and handsome supply of penholders laid along the counter.

A CLIENT (needless to say, female). Oh—would you mind cashing this crossed cheque for me, please—fourteen shillings and sixpence three-farthings? It seems an odd sum, in a way, but it just gets my balance even. I'm funny in that way, I'm afraid; I do like my balance to be an even sum.

General Impression—(perhaps derived from the expression on the Head Cashier's face as he meticulously counts out this remarkable sum?)—that this is not the only way in which the client is "funny".

In the Manager's Office.

AN EARNEST YOUNG GENTLEMAN (who has asked for an interview, but does not appear to know how to get on with it). Perfectly marvellous weather, isn't it?

THE MANAGER. Yes, indeed, Mr. Bates. Quite wonderful.

MR. B. (unhappily). That's what I think. Wonderful.

THE M. (encouragingly). I often think the British Climate is very much maligned.

MR. B. Rather! Oh yes—rather.

General Impression that if he isn't helped, he will go on like this all day.

THE M. Anything I can have the pleasure of doing for you, Mr. Bates?

MR. B. (starting in false astonishment). Oh yes—by Jove, I'm glad you reminded me—there was a little matter—I—I think I had a letter from you, about my overdraft or something——

THE M. (disregarding Something as a mere puerility—which indeed it is). Would you like me to ascertain for you Exactly How Things Stand, Mr. Bates?

General Impression that they both of them know to a fraction Exactly How Things Stand—or, more probably, do not Stand—but that amenities had better be preserved.

Later in the Day.

A CONSCIENTIOUS YOUNG CLIENT. I just called because I wanted to explain about my account. You see, I'm afraid you'll think I'm overdrawn, and of course I am in a way—at least if the Gramophone Record People pay in my cheque at once, I am. But I thought I'd better tell you that it'll be all right, because it happens to be my birthday next week, and I always get a cheque for five pounds from my father, and if I send it to you immediately, that'll put me straight again. But till then, I'm afraid I'm about one pound six shillings and a few pence, I don't know how many, overdrawn. If the Manager says anything, will you explain to him, please?

THE CASHIER. Certainly, madam.

General Impression that the Manager will, at all costs, be reassured on this subject before there is any serious danger of the Bank closing down. The Conscientious Young Client withdraws with effusive thanks, and an air of relief.

In the Manager's Office once more, Mr. Bates having departed in great disorder, and an Elderly Gentleman with a Bald Head having succeeded him.

THE E. G. So you see it's a mere temporary accommodation—simply a matter of convenience.

THE M. Quite, quite. Now in regard to security, Sir William....

General Impression that the crux of the matter has here been reached.

THE E. G. (airily). Ah, yes. Well, there, to be perfectly candid with you, I find myself in a slightly anomalous position. As a matter of absolute fact—actually—it's hardly convenient, at the moment, for me to do very much, as to securities.

THE M. (with unabated suavity). I quite follow you, Sir William. Quite. Now—if I may ask—exactly how far are you prepared to go?

General Impression that he knows, and Sir William knows, that the latter is prepared to go exactly no distance at all, and that the consequent negotiations are likely to be fraught with difficulties for all parties concerned. As, indeed, is too often the case in these post-war days in which we live....